Yes, because I know it's the single most burning question on your mind; I did talk to my professor about leaving early.
In any case, we went in and had to wait a few minutes while they prepped the woman who'd been in before us. We chatted with a nurse who we see every visit and asked about the woman who did the ultrasound, mostly curious as to how accurate she was, and were informed that as far as that nurse knew (and she'd worked with that particular ultrasound tech for over five years) she had never been wrong.
Well, time seemed to drag out but eventually we were called in and the tech (also a nurse, I suppose?) proceeded to do a thorough check on our little baby. Hands and feet were checked, the femur and skull and chambers of the heart were all measured, umbilical cord was given a once-over using some sort of multicolor setting, and we finally found out whether the baby was going to be a boy or a girl.
We're having a boy!
Now I'll be honest and say that I am very very excited about this, but despite the enthusiastic responses of some I don't know that I'm any more excited than I would have been if it was a girl.
In any case, one of the funniest parts of the ultrasound was that he kept moving around so much that at one point the tech just stopped trying to get the shot she needed and did a side-view of his movements so we could watch him. His arm went up behind his head, his other arm under his chin, then both were out to the side. At one point he looked like he was trying to get his feet under himself so he could stand or crawl.
Occasionally we got glimpses of the surface of his face or body, but mostly they were looking for internal details and measurements so most of the pictures we ended up with are pretty skeletal, but they're still worth sharing. This is just all amazing for me.
So, we left the place after doing some catch-up with the doctor, called parents and notified siblings, and then had to do about a billion other things. One of the things I had to do was figure out what my blood type is, as soon as was feasible, because I couldn't remember (and neither could my mother, and it's not in my records anywhere).
Easiest way to do that? Give blood. Which I've never done before (at least not that I can remember). I won't do the whole story, but it was both not as bad as my instinctive dislike of needles would have me believe and worse than the impression I've gotten from folks who give often.
I've had to give a larger-than-a-pin-prick sample of blood for tests before and expected it to be a bit like that; initial sharp prick, light ache until they've got what they need. This was the not-that-bad slight stabbing poke, followed by... seven minutes of feeling like I had a small chunk of metal shoved into my arm. I waited for it to turn into a dull ache, but it really didn't and that might have been why I sort of rushed it when the lady told me that squeezing the grip they gave me would speed things up a bit.
Yes, to answer your question, I did feel like a big baby and wanted it done ASAP.
Anyway, seven minutes and some light-headedness later I was done, stopping a minute till I felt better while I snacked and then heading home. Should get the blood type with my card, and I do feel good about finally giving blood.
Oh, one last thing.
We're going with my name again, making him the "III." Say hello!
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